


How To Not Suck at Being a Brother

by vernie_klein



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A Gift!Fic, Bunker Fluff, Fic based off a pic, HR Fluff and Stuff, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, sick!Sam, trials!sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 08:17:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4912093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vernie_klein/pseuds/vernie_klein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The trials have taken their toll on Sam. Dean comes back from a solo Hunt to find Sam has been sleeping in his bed.  Wait.... Are those <i>his</i> Batman boxers on Sam?</p>
<p>A fluffy little TrialSick!Sam fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How To Not Suck at Being a Brother

**Author's Note:**

  * For [impala8873](https://archiveofourown.org/users/impala8873/gifts).



> **Hope you enjoy this ficlet. It is based off a pic that was posted to a Wincest group I belong to on Facebook. Someone wanted a fic, so here it is!**  
>  (Oh.. The pic is from an Instagram user named tattoos_n_physiques Just thought I should give credit to where it belongs)
> 
>  
> 
> **Not beta'd, mistakes are my own**

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=11c4her)

 

Sam rolled over from his comfy spot on his bed. He hit the bedside table with this arm and stilled. He wasn’t in his bed. Which meant he wasn’t in his room. Shit. It meant he was in _Dean’s_ room. The past few nights had been hard on him. Dean had been gone for a few days with some contact of Caleb’s on a complicated salt and burn outside of Cheyenne. Sam had finally admitted that the second trial had taken more out of him than he let on at first. His headaches were no longer manageable. He couldn’t even walk from his room to the library anymore. Hence the stay in Dean’s. Well, that and he missed his brother. Sleeping in a place that smelled like Dean comforted him.

Sam sighed and rolled into the blanket further. The climate control in the Bunker kept all the rooms at a cool 71 degrees, but Sam felt chilled to the bone. He figured he had a few more hours until Dean made it home, so he might as well take advantage. Sam snuggled into the pillow, the scent of gunpowder and motor oil soothing his anxiety. He breathed in deep the smell of sandalwood from Dean’s soap and the always present smell that was uniquely _Dean_. That smell had comforted him throughout childhood, had soothed his mind during the hallucinations and now… Well, now it comforted him in his time of dying. 

Sam wasn’t stupid. Far from it. He knew the trials were slowly purifying his body of the Demon blood Azazel fed him as a child. The trials were preparing him for his eternal rest in Heaven. that was the point. The _Ultimate Sacrifice_. He wished that he could tell Dean, but he was already unhappy with Sam doing the trials. How would he feel when he found out that this was Endgame?

Sam heard the Bunker door open and then slam shut, locking as it closed. Dean was home. Sam glanced at the clock. 10.00PM Dean would figure Sam was sleeping, so he would take a shower before he sought out his sickly brother. Sam figured that gave him twenty minutes to get up and dressed and meet Dean in the library to go over the Hunt. Sam smiled and curled into a ball. He figured he could doze for just a minute or two.

“Sammy!” A voice yelled through the din. “Hey, where are you?” 

Sam woke with a start. His heart thumped a quick rhythm in his chest as he jumped from the bed as quick as he could. Vertigo overtook him and Sam sat back down on the edge of Dean’s memory foam. He hoped it didn’t _remember_ him too much- not that Dean would be mad per se, he would get all clingy for a few days though. Sam didn’t want to have to deal with a clingy Dean.

He stood, slower this time and made his way to the door. At the last second, Sam realised he wasn’t wearing a shirt… but, it wasn’t like Dean hadn’t seen him shirtless before. Sam opened the door and glanced up and down the hall. He didn’t see Dean anywhere. Sam sighed in relief and stepped out into the cold hallway. He made his way toward the rustling, and figured Dean was cleaning up his mess from earlier in the day. He normally didn’t leave the library so messy… but yeah. Sam stepped into the cavernous space and grimaced. He didn’t realise that the mess was so _big_.

Dean stopped shuffling papers and gasped as he looked up at Sam. He bit his bottom lip and his eyes roamed everywhere. Everywhere but Sam, he noticed. “Dean?” 

“What, Sammy?” Dean glanced up from the table and whimpered.

Sam moved closer to his brother. He took in the rigid posture, the foot shuffling… Dean looked, well- _nervous_. Dean was never nervous. Sam moved two steps closer and smiled. “Dean, what’s going on?”

**xxx**

Dean bit his lip and looked down at the desk. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Not that he hadn’t seen his brother half naked before, but he really shouldn’t be so turned on. Sam looked like death warmed over. His hair was limp and stringy. Dean figured it hadn’t been washed in a few days. His face was shiny with sweat and his skin sallow. Dean took in the dark circles under Sam’s eyes and the red around his nose. Dean, however, found Sam beautiful. It helped that he was standing in the middle of the library in a pair of boxers. _Only_ boxers. What Dean found the most interesting was that they were _his_ boxers. Which meant that Sam had been in his room… Probably sleeping. Dean wanted nothing more than to run through the Bunker and smell his pillow. It _had_ to smell like Sam.

“Dean, what’s going on?” Sammy asked again. Dean realised he was still absently shuffling papers back and forth on the table. He cleared his throat and dropped the loose sheets.

“Nothing, Sam… Just. Surprised to see you up and about.” Dean smiled. He knew it didn’t meet his eyes, but it was better than Sam wondering just what was going on. “Sammy… Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Dean watched as Sam’s steps faltered. He reached out a hand and gripped his baby brother's forearm. “Steady, baby boy. Let’s get you in a chair, yeah?”

Sam smiled and nodded. Dean could tell that he was allowing the manhandling for Dean’s sake. The chair was harder than Dean liked, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it until he could get Sam down the hallway. There was no way that Sam could make it all the way to his bed. Dean figured that Sam could just say with him. Once Sam was eased into the chair, Dean set about getting the rest of the library picked up.

“Give me a few minutes, yeah? I’ll get you some soup and we’ll go lay down.” Dean smiled at his brother. He hoped Sam would be okay with laying together. Dean kept himself busy cleaning up the papers and books strewn about and left Sam to make him a can of chicken and stars soup.

“Dean?” Sam called out from the other room as Dean walked the short distance from the kitchen to the library.

Dean set the mug of hot soup he was carrying on the table and hurried toward Sam. “What? Are you tired? Dizzy? What’s going on?” Dean frantically pawed at Sam trying to figure out the problem.

“Dean. Just… I’m just ready to lay down. You were taking a long time, okay?” Sam sighed.

“Okay. Let me go put this soup in my room and I’ll be back, yeah?” Dean waited for Sam to nod and grabbed the soup and headed toward his room.

Dean pushed open the door and took in his room. The blankets were twisted and pulled down on the bed, the sheets still sleep rumpled. Dean moved in the room and noticed a pile of Sam’s clothes by the foot of the bed. He set the mug down on his desk and scooped up Sam’s still sweat soaked clothes and threw them in the hamper in his closet. He untwisted and straightened the covers, pulling down the side closest to the door to allow Sam to climb in easier. He pulled the desk chair close to the bed on the chance that Sam wouldn’t be okay with him sharing a bed. Dean smiled and nodded, happy with the look of the room. He pushed his door open the rest of the way and went back to his brother.

**xxx**

Sam waited patiently for Dean to return from his room. He was having doubts that his brother would really take care of him. He knew that some of the things he had said recently were downright evil and cruel of him, but at the time… Sam figured he shouldn’t think about that right now. He was weak, yes. A little dizzy, a lot nauseous, but mostly he just needed human contact. Dean had better hurry back before he passed out and fell off the chair.

“Sammy?” Dean called from the doorway. “You ready?”

Sam nodded and made to stand. His hands shook as he braced them on the arms of the hard wooden chair. He tried to push himself off, but the exertion was brutal. Sam collapsed back on the chair and squeezed his eyes shut. He would not cried. He _wouldn’t_.

“Sammy?” Dean questioned in a panic and Sam heard his heavy boots thump across the wooden floor. Sam opened his eyes to Dean’s worried face.

“I’m- It’s just-” Sam sighed, his smile soft as Dean ran a hand through his limp hair. 

“It’s okay, brother. I’ll help. Let me help.” Dean awkwardly hugged Sam to pull him up from under his armpits and Sam chuckled at his brother’s effort. “We need to get some meat on those bones, Sammy. You’re wasting away to nothing.”

Sam nodded, his head falling in the crook of Dean’s neck. He allowed his brother to manhandle him to standing, but Sam had to draw the line at being carried.

“I’m not a baby anymore, Dean. You can’t carry me to your room.” Sam rolled his eyes as Dean raised an eyebrow in defiance. “Fine. But I swear… When I am better….”

“Yes, Sam. But until then, it’s my job to look after my _pain in the ass_ little brother, now isn’t it?” Dean held his arms out. Sam nodded and wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and allowed him to hoist him up.

“Just don’t drop me, fucker.”

Dean laughed. Genuinely laughed. Sam could get lost in that laugh. It had been a long time since his brother smiled like that. “Of course not, Princess Samantha.”

He carried Sam to his room and laid him down on the bed. Sam felt touched by the care that Dean had shown him. He knew his brother had always been a _mother hen_ , but this was taking it to the extreme. Sam watched on as Dean fluffed the pillow under his head and pulled the covers up to his chest. Sam noticed the mug of soup on the desk had been forgotten. He snuggled deep in the bed, breathing in the scent of Dean all around him. 

Dean made to go sit in the chair at the side of the bed. Sam couldn’t have that. He wanted his brother’s comfort. He hoped that Dean would be willing to share. “Don’t.” Sam whispered as he caught his brother’s wrist.

“Sammy?” Dean turned to face his brother and kneeled down by the side of the bed.

“Please… Don’t.” Sam pleaded and gave Dean his best puppy dog eyes.

“Sammy…” Dean whimpered. “I-”

“You can, Dean. Please. I need you.”Sam pulled on Dean’s wrist. He needed to get it through his brother’s stubbornness that this was okay.

“Okay, Sam. But don’t hog the covers. And no cuddling.” Dean sighed and stood. Sam watched on as Dean methodically stripped to his boxer briefs and walked around the the other side of the bed.

“I mean it, Sam. No kicking… No cuddling.” Dean threw back the covers and climbed in the bed. Sam immediately pulled his big brother over and octopused around him. “Sammy…”

“No, Dean. Just no.” Sam whispered as he nuzzled his brother’s hair. “Just give me this, yeah?”

Sam closed his eyes to Dean’s final resignation. He knew no matter what happened, he would have the memory of this perfect night to get him through. Just as he was about to fall into sleep, he felt the lightest brush of skin against his lips. The next press was harder- like Dean meant it. Sam kissed him lightly back and _shushed_ Dean. 

Sam fell asleep to the words _I love you_ brushing against his skin.


End file.
